


Chance

by KChasm



Category: Higurashi no Naku Koro ni | Higurashi When They Cry
Genre: Bad Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Low quality, Minor Editing, Romance, and yet..., reupload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 09:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10331897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KChasm/pseuds/KChasm
Summary: Coincidence piled upon coincidence. It collapsed all around them, and they didn't notice.(Originally uploaded 2007, FFN.)





	

"Now, Satoko, squash is full of vitamins vital for a healthy body—"

It took a while, but eventually—eventually, despite Satoko's resistance—Shion managed to get the younger girl to eat most of the vegetables she'd brought.

Keiichi watched her out of the corner of his eye. Better her than him. He'd tried to get Satoko to eat healthily once—though he hadn't been serious about it; he'd only been teasing—and it'd taken all of five seconds for a shouting match to develop. And then it had gotten complicated, and he'd been left hanging upside-down by a rope around his ankle. Things tended to end that way when Satoko was involved. Of course, it wasn't always _specifically_ a rope around the ankle, but still—

He wondered why Mion's sister seemed to have an easier time. Probably because she was a girl...

Shion. That was her name, right?

Plus, she was really persistent. Instead of giving up or losing her temper, she'd just worn Satoko down, all the while wearing that smile on her face and never for a moment losing that jovial attitude. It was pretty amazing.

Mion's sister left shortly afterwards, and Keiichi didn't see her again, until—

* * *

Four boys running into an alleyway at the same time usually meant something bad was up. The wisest action, of course, was to walk right past and pretend not to see anything.

Well, he'd never really been a model of wisdom, had he?

So he stepped into the middle of it and shouted something heroic (exactly what, he later found he couldn't remember) while trying to suppress his sense of self-preservation. Suddenly, it wasn't the girl that was being menaced, but him. Which had been the plan, right? To distract them from the girl and make them focus on him instead.

And as the first bully rushed forward, screaming a battle cry, Keiichi allowed himself to admit that maybe he hadn't thought this all the way through. Though it was a small consolation, he thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut, that if he was going to get beaten up...at least he'd be beaten up for trying to do the right thing—

And then someone yelled in pain—except that someone wasn't him.

Huh?

Apparently the bully had missed, which was on its own a stroke of incredibly good luck. But not only had the bully missed—he'd also ended up striking one of his bully friends, sending the two of them tumbling to the ground. Keiichi certainly hadn't _meant_ to do that, not at all, but when good luck came along you didn't question it.

The would-be attackers fled, and Keiichi turned towards their intended victim. To his surprise, it was someone he knew.

"Hey, Mion," he said in the most annoyingly cheerful voice he could manage. "Are you all right?"

Who would have thought he'd be saving Mion, of all people? Surely, one would expect it to be the other way around, or some—

He paused, mid-thought. Something was off. Something was entirely off.

Look at the whole picture, his brain suggested. Well, there wasn't really that much to look at. He'd saved the _helpless_ Mion from a band of roving thugs. Or something like that.

...the helpless, short-skirted, high-heeled, trembling Mion.

Oh, wait. _Now_ he understood.

"You're..." Keiichi pointed at the girl, smiling slightly. "You're Shion, right?"

An alarmed (well, more alarmed) expression formed on the girl's face. "Eh? Wait—do I know you?" she asked nervously.

He'd been right, then. "Oh, um, you don't know me, right? Ha ha, sorry. I'm Keiichi Maebara. I'm in your sister's class—"

* * *

That was the beginning of their friendship—acquaintanceship, rather. They barely knew each other, after all. But they had a mutual friend in Shion's sister. Well, actually, he didn't know that for certain. Maybe Shion and her sister were bitter enemies, or something. The point was, he knew Mion, and Mion knew Shion.

Best to test the waters. "By the way, Mion—how's your sister doing?"

Mion's face showed mild surprise. "Huh?" In her defense, the question had been a bit out of the blue.

"Your sister—she's alright, right?" For a moment, Keiichi looked past Mion and at the chair next to Satoko's. It was empty. Every lunchtime, it seemed, Shion would arrive with a small meal and sit there, and the two of them, Shion and Satoko, would eat lunch together. Except—today she hadn't come.

"Something came up." Nothing important, her tone of voice said, and Keiichi relaxed. "Why?"

'Because I'm worried about her,' he didn't say. Instead he shrugged, trying his best to look nonchalant. "Oh, well, you know—when someone suddenly stops showing up to class all of a sudden—" His explanation trailed away, until it was only the sound of indistinct muttering as he looked down at his hands.

Mion fixed him with a strange expression, but said nothing.

* * *

"How am I supposed to eat when my parents aren't here?" Keiichi groaned. His mother had said something that morning, something about how she would be in Tokyo, and how he'd have to cook something for himself—but he had been half-asleep, barely listening. It had only been later, at school, that he'd been able to replay the one-sided conversation in his head and realize what it meant for him.

He'd have to cook something for himself.

Except...he couldn't actually cook.

"I'm going to starve," he mumbled. He repeated the word 'starve' again, drawing it out far longer than it needed to be heard.

Satoko looked over her shoulder to see if Shion was watching, and slipped some unwanted vegetables into her pocket to dispose of later. "Couldn't you just cook your own meals?"

Well, he didn't have any choice, he reminded himself.

The stovetop mocked him silently, staring up at him with burner eyes. Keiichi stared back.

The recipe seemed easy enough. All he had to do was slice some fruits and vegetables, then cook them, or something like that. Fry them? Bake them? "What's the difference, anyway?" Keiichi mumbled, skimming over the instructions.

Well, he'd just slice up some veggies, pour out a bit of oil, and see how it turned out. Cooking was all about experimentation, right? He'd heard someone say something like that once, but he couldn't remember who.

In any case (and he began to grin), nothing really had to be exact, right? He could pretty much wing it, and something edible would come out of his efforts.

Full of confidence, he grabbed the largest kitchen knife and set to work. This was going to be easy. He didn't know what he was so anxious about before!

And, sure enough, Keiichi was soon gazing at his culinary masterpiece through the tongues of flame that danced high above the pan.

It took him about fifteen seconds to remember that, actually, he _wasn't_ making a flambe. And even if he had been, the ceiling probably wasn't supposed to be turning black.

"Huh? Oh, crap. Oh, crap. Oh, _crap_."

He probably would have used words more expressive than "crap", eventually, but the sound of someone sliding open the door interrupted his mutterings.

He turned around to see a girl in the doorway, carrying a small box. An expression resembling horror was frozen on her face.

"Oh, hi, Shion." Keiichi gave a little half-wave, doing his best to appear absolutely unconcerned with his imminent immolation. Inside he was panicking, but there was no need for anyone else to know that.

"Keiichi, turn the stove off!" No sooner had Shion shouted the command than she sprang forward, reaching for the burner knobs herself. A quick twist of her hand and the flames immediately began to die down. Keiichi watched, relieved, until Shion whirled her head around to face him angrily. "Don't you know what you were doing?"

Keiichi shifted his feet guiltily. Well, he'd been trying to cook, but that probably wasn't what Shion meant at all. Powerless before her glare, he would have apologized, but Shion wasn't done yelling at him just yet.

"You almost burnt your house down!"

Ah. Keiichi looked at the remains of his salad, now toasted beyond recognition. "I was trying to make something easy...I guess it got a little out of hand," he admitted.

"A little?" Shion raised an eyebrow skeptically—but, Keiichi noticed, there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. He apparently wasn't in too much trouble. Thank goodness.

"It's the fault of whoever wrote this cookbook. I followed these instructions perfectly..." He laughed. She laughed. It was a lie, and they both knew it, but that was alright.

"Well, let's see if you're right or not." Shion smiled at him and set the box on the counter, picking up the cookbook in its place. "We'll try and make this again...and this time, I'll guide you."

* * *

"Make sure you slice evenly."

Keiichi quietly groaned and rolled his eyes. She'd said that she would guide him, and she was certainly making good on her promise, but... "Is it really going to make so much of a difference?" he muttered, half to himself.

So maybe he hadn't had a lot of practice where cutting vegetables was concerned. But still, he didn't think he was so bad that Shion had to plant herself _right beside him_ and point out every little thing he was doing wrong.

Not that she was annoying him, or anything like that. It was just... _uncomfortable_ , her standing right next to him. She was close enough that he'd bump into her if he took even half a step in her direction. She kept pointing out what he was doing wrong, and every time she moved her hand to indicate how he was supposed to cut the onions or slice the tomatoes or whatever, her bare arm would brush against his, just for a split second.

'Uncomfortable' wasn't the right word, actually. It was more like—more like—

"Alright, now, heat up the pan."

Her arm brushed against his again and he lost his train of thought completely. "And put oil on. I know." he said testily.

Shion didn't seem to notice, though, or if she did notice, she ignored it. "Remember, let the pan heat up a little first."

Those forty-five seconds were perhaps the longest of Keiichi's life.

"So _now_ can I add—?"

Shion shot him a slightly disappointed look, but nodded.

"Wait," she suddenly said as Keiichi began to tip the plastic bottle. "That isn't the oil, that's—

There was again the sound of a door sliding open. "Hey, Keiichi!"

"Huh?" Keiichi looked back, over his shoulder, and his hand dipped _just_ a centimeter too low.

"Keiichi!"

As the pan's contents burst into flames, Keiichi couldn't help but think amidst the screaming that it really wasn't his day.

* * *

In the end, it was Keiichi's newest visitor, Satoko, who made dinner.

How humiliating. Not only had he failed to cook himself a decent meal twice in a row, but he'd been shown up by a small child. He'd be lucky if Satoko ever let him live this one down.

But food was food, so at least he wasn't going to starve, right? He shoveled rice into his mouth almost frantically as Shion, seated next to him, looked on with a mix of disapproval and laughter on her face.

"Hey, all of this stuff is pretty good!" His chopsticks roved from plate to plate, picking at a little of everything. "Satoko, you must be some sort of expert at cooking, or something."

Satoko laughed self-consciously, waving away the compliment. "Thanks for the praise, but I'm really not that good. The side dishes are from the store, and I just opened a can for these..."

"No, no, it's definitely a great dinner—" Keiichi looked at Shion, silently requesting support. "Right?"

"Yes, of course." She looked distracted, for a moment, then smiled. "It was a good dinner. Though, it might have used some vegetables, perhaps—"

Satoko covered her ears. "Not listening! I'm not listening!" she shouted.

"—maybe squash, for example—"

"I can't hear you!"

Keiichi laughed and ruffled Satoko's hair affectionately, and for a moment, just a moment, the three of them were—

But too quickly, dinner was gone, and with it went any excuse for his guests to stay any longer at his house. Satoko was the first to leave, bounding out the door almost as if unhampered by Earth's gravity. Shion turned to leave as well, but was interrupted.

"Hey, wait, Shion."

"Yes?"

"You forgot your..." Keiichi reached for the box that Shion had set on the counter so long ago, but, in his hurry, somehow managed to only pick up the box's lid, revealing the container's contents: rice, some meat, a small sprig of broccoli. Keiichi blinked at the food stupidly.

"Oh." Shion seemed almost embarrassed. "Actually, that was for you..."

For him?

She grinned. "I guess you ended up not needing it."

Keiichi looked at Shion, and then at the food, and then at Shion again, and smiled, placing the lid back onto the lunchbox. "Hey—can I keep this and return it to you later?"

Even afterward, he wouldn't be able to figure out exactly _why_ he'd asked that. Not that there was any reason for him not to ask that. Food was food. If you had uneaten food, the reasonable thing to do was to save it for another day.

Except, that really wasn't why he—

"Keep it?"

"Well, yeah. I guess because this is the first time I've ever had a girl make food for me like this," he heard himself saying. "So I guess I feel like the least I can do is actually eat it, right?"

She laughed, and after she left Keiichi put the lunchbox in the refrigerator, behind the vegetables.

* * *

At first it was only one absence. "She's sick," they said. Most of them probably believed it.

And then she missed another day the next week. And another day on the next. And after that it was two days, then three, then four, until she was barely coming to school at all.

And when she did come to school, the Satoko her classmates had once known was gone, replaced by a tired girl with dull, almost unseeing eyes.

There were whispers about how Satoko had a new guardian now. A man named Teppei Hojo, her uncle. There were rumors, too, about what the uncle did on those days that Satoko didn't go to school...

Keiichi's worst fears were confirmed the day he went to visit Satoko with Shion and Dr. Irie. They were true—all of them.

But nobody would do anything.

"Oh, Satoko's sick again today," they said, carefully stepping around the lie.

Well, fine. If nobody was going to do anything, Keiichi decided—if nobody was going to do anything, if the authorities refused to believe him, then—

He would just _kill_ Teppei Hojo.

It was a tiny seed of an idea that occurred to him one night as she stared at the ceiling. A crazy idea. He couldn't kill somebody. He dismissed it, and soon fell asleep.

But over the next days he found himself beginning to seriously consider it. Yes, it was murder, and murder was against the law. But he'd already tried to fix everything the way a law-abiding citizen would. So there was really no other choice, right?

Right?

Right.

He understood, now, what he had to do.

Satoko's brother had played for the baseball team, hadn't he? It was only a wild hope. It was completely possible, he told himself, that he would open the locker and find it empty.

But it _wasn't_ empty. The metal baseball bat was there, its surface gleaming as it caught the last rays of sunset through the windows. He reached for it and grasped the tape-wrapped handle.

A hand fell upon his shoulder.

Keiichi froze.

His heart leapt into his throat and he stopped breathing. The baseball bat, forgotten, slipped from his hands, clattering against the floor.

 _It's him_ , he thought frantically. _It's that policeman, and—oh god, Satoko—_

But when he turned around, it wasn't Ouishi's face he saw at all.

Shion Sonozaki's hair fell across her eyes as she looked silently down at the floor...and the bat.

* * *

Killing Satoko's uncle was easy, almost disgustingly so.

As he stared down at the mud-covered shoes on his feet—not his regular shoes, but the large, thick boots Shion had given him to wear—his mind flashed back to that day in front of Satoshi's locker.

" _Shion! I mean—Shion—you surprised me, just now—"_

" _Keiichi."_

" _I mean, all of a sudden—I mean, I didn't hear you come in, so you surprised me."_

It was strange how he didn't feel bad at all. He'd just killed somebody, hadn't he? He'd expected the tiniest bit of regret, perhaps sadness at what had to be done—but there was nothing like that, only a soaring sense of triumph.

Red dripped from the length of metal pipe in his hand.

That had been another one of the things Shion had insisted—that she use the bat instead of Keiichi. He had almost begun to argue, but then Shion had turned her head and _looked_ at him.

Her expression hadn't been threatening, or anything like that. Rather, just for a second, Shion had looked very tired and very, very sad.

He'd ended up going to the junkyard and rummaging around for something else he could use.

" _Keiichi, what are you planning to do with this?"_

" _Planning? I'm not—I'm not planning anything. I just decided maybe to try baseball!"_

" _All of a sudden?"_

" _Y—yes."_

"Now what? Do we bury him? Or..." A stupid question. They hadn't brought a shovel, anyway. Keiichi wiped the rain from his face, a futile task. Despite all their planning, they'd still been caught off-guard by the rain—but rain was good, Shion had explained to him. Rain washed away evidence.

"Don't worry about it. We'll just leave the body here." The tip of the baseball bat dragged in the mud.

"You'll...take care of it?" Keiichi looked at Shion curiously.

She'd met him dressed in a jogging suit, a far cry from her usual stylish attire. But now, as she gazed up into the clouded sky, water dripping from her face, her hair, Keiichi couldn't help but think that she looked beautiful, just the same.

" _Alright. I'll accept that story from you, Keiichi. But..."_

"I'll take care of it. Or rather, I'll get someone to take care of it." She smiled impishly, looking at his out of the corner of her eye, and he felt his face redden. "There are advantages to having connections with the _esteemed_ Sonozaki household."

The walk back to the village would be a long one, but Keiichi realized that he really didn't mind. It may have been cold and wet, but in the pouring rain, he felt...clean.

At peace.

"Now, remember, we were together at the Watanagashi festival today." Shion laughter was equal parts happiness and relief. "It's just bad luck that we didn't bump into any of our other friends. Or maybe we did, after all."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, never mind. Just—if anyone says you were at the festival, you were at the festival."

"Er, okay." He didn't understand, but he trusted her.

" _Shion..."_

" _...it's my responsibility to take care of Satoko, too."_

* * *

Night.

Satoko lived with Shion now. Tatsuyoshi had grumbled a bit about having to look after another person, but Keiichi could tell that he really didn't mind.

He found himself visiting Shion more often, too, partly to make sure Satoko was alright (not that he didn't trust Shion), and partly because...

"Is it okay for you to be out this late? Your parents must be worrying." Shion set a tray with two cups of tea on the table. "Careful, it's a bit hot."

Keiichi took one of the mugs tentatively and sipped at it. It wasn't too bad. The warmth from the tea settled in his stomach, making him feel sluggish. "No, it's alright. I called earlier and told them I might be a bit late. Uh, you don't mind that I did that, do you?"

Shion smiled and tilted her own mug, but said nothing.

When he woke up in the morning Shion was still there—asleep, her head resting against his shoulder.

* * *

Everything was strange.

That was all that Keiichi could think about: that everything was strange. Not a _bad_ kind of strange, though. Just...strange.

He visited Shion almost every day, but that didn't mean anything. She was his friend, after all. That she was the _only_ friend he visited so often was a fact that he ignored because _that_ didn't mean anything, either.

There was nothing that made Shion different than anybody else, except for everything, and it _made everything strange_.

He only began to understand one morning, as Tatsuyoshi drove the three of them—Keiichi, Shion, and Satoko—toward the school. Embarrassingly, he'd fallen asleep at her place again. He kept expecting someone to say something about it, maybe even just a half-joking ' _You shouldn't fall asleep until you get to your own house, Keiichi_ ,' but—

The car lurched to a stop.

Satoko opened the car door and scrambled out of the vehicle. Keiichi would have followed close behind, but once again, that hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

He turned his head to look at Shion. She was wearing an unidentifiable expression, and an odd mixture of apprehension and relief twisted in his stomach.

But she didn't scold him. She didn't say anything, in fact.

For a few seconds that felt like eternity there was only silence and stillness: a girl and a boy, her hand on his shoulder.

And then she smiled.

"Thanks."

"Huh?" Keiichi stared blankly at Shion's face. What for?"

She laughed good-naturedly at his confusion. "Never mind. Just—thanks."

He couldn't remember getting out of the car himself, only watching from afar as it melted into the scenery.

And like a moth drawn to light, he left his house that afternoon for Okinomiya, and Shion and Satoko.

* * *

He stayed the night again, and the next morning Hinamizawa was gone.

* * *

He couldn't understand.

Everyone was dead, they said. Everyone was dead. Except—that was impossible, right? Something like that couldn't just _happen_.

Impossible.

Impossible!

Someone—someone _must_ have known! How could a village sit so close to a poisonous swamp for so many years without anybody realizing? Surely this was—surely _somebody_ was at fault!

And they couldn't all be dead, because that was impossible, too. Rena wouldn't just _die_ , and if there was anybody who poisonous gas couldn't kill, it was Mion, and his parents—oh, god, he hadn't even thought about his _parents—_

His parents—they were probably waiting for him. They were safe, waiting for him in some hospital or police station or something—they had to be. They must have been worried because he'd left the house again—

He cried for a long, long time. They all did.

* * *

Satoko lay asleep underneath a blanket, her head resting on a cushion. Keiichi sat nearby, leaning back against the wall. He stared at the ceiling, deep in thought.

"Shion..." He took a deep breath, and the girl next to him stirred.

"Yes?"

"What now?"

She blinked up at him, her eyes red, tired. "I don't know."

There was an uneasy silence as they both looked upon the future stretching before them. Then, Shion spoke.

"Satoko..." Her voice suddenly drew strength. "Satoko is my responsibility. I promised that I would do my best, so..."

And then she let out a long breath and was once again the sad, weary girl she had been a moment before. "So...I'll do my best," she finished lamely, her eyes closed as she buried her face against her knees, her hands clasped around her legs.

Another silence. Tatsuyoshi was asleep in the next room, but the house had never felt so empty.

"I'll help."

Shion lifted her head slowly.

"If it's okay, I mean—" He began to stammer, embarrassed. "I mean—I'd like to help, if it's okay, but if you don't want me to—"

Her hand reached around his back to touch his shoulder and he was instantly quiet. Shion kept her hand there for a while, only staring into the distance as Keiichi glanced anxiously at the her face, looking for some sign of a feeling.

"I wouldn't mind if you helped." Her voice was soft, but unwavering.

Keiichi let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Really?"

She didn't say anything, just tilted her head against his arm. _Really._

* * *

Somewhere, a clock marked the passing of midnight.

It was June 23rd, the day after the Great Hinamizawa Disaster, and the world continued to turn.


End file.
